THERE COMES A TIME

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

There comes a time to every mortal being,

Whate’ er his station or his lot in life,

When his sad soul yearns for the final freeing

From all this jarring and unceasing strife.

There comes a time, when, having lost its savor,

The salt of wealth is worthless; when the mind

Grows wearied with the world’ s capricious favor,

And sighs for something that it cannot find.

There comes a time, when, though kind friends are thronging

About our pathway with sweet acts of grace,

We feel a vast and overwhelming longing

For something that we cannot name or place.

There comes a time, when, with earth’ s best love by us,

To feed the heart’ s great hunger and desire,

We find not even this can satisfy us;

The soul within us cries for something higher.

What greater proof need we that we inherit

A life immortal in another sphere?

It is the homesick longing of the spirit

That cannot find its satisfaction here.